Francois-Green Piano Duo at the Dome Studio, 14 May 2014

The lunch-time recital brought a packed audience to the Studio Theatre for a programme which was both beautiful and challenging. Combining Mozart and Schubert with Berg was potentially risky but in the event completely justified.

The duo opened with Mozart’s F major sonata K497 and brought to it overtones of Beethoven as well as a lighter touch which harked back to the early 18th century. The opening movement’s development section constantly strains at the limits of baroque form and seems to yearn for greater flexibility. As if this was all too much for the composer, the Finale seems tongue-in-cheek in its lightness. 

Wozzeck is not a work one would automatically associate with the piano, and extracting the interludes and moulding them into a single movement may seem an unlikely task. That it proved so successful was as much to the credit of the composer as to the subtlety of the arrangement. Berg’s writing is so lyrical that it sweeps all before it. There were strong hints of Rosenkavalier in the opening sections, a point I can’t recall when in the opera house, and throughout the lyrical beauty out-ways any potential difficulties with the notation. The duo obviously delighted in the work and we can only hope it may be taken up by others.

The final work was Schubert’s Fantasy in F minor D940. The contrast was almost too great. Here was lyrical beauty combined with sublime melodic creation. It came close to wallowing at times, but never tipped over the edge.

For a worthy encore they played a brief contemporary Hungarian work where gentle flutterings helped an otherwise indeterminate structure. But the best was left to last with a magnificently sensitive and very gentle rendition of a Bach chorale prelude arranged for four hands. Its simplicity of approach was masterly.

Saturday 10 May 2014

Few new operas make a strong and positive impact on their first encounter, but ENO seem to have struck lucky with Julian Anderson’s Thebans. The musical world he creates is compelling throughout, moving us swiftly and with great clarity through the complex narrative. As with the original text by Sophocles the chorus plays a vital part and choral writing is one of Julian Anderson’s great strengths. In the first act I put my trust in fate is the first of a number of highly effective set pieces, muscular in texture but emotionally clear and precise.

Frank McGuiness has repositioned the three Theban plays to allow for Antigone to die in the middle act and for us then to go back to the death of Oedipus to reflect on why Creon because so brutal and why Antigone makes the sacrifice she does. That this re-structuring works so well is as much a tribute to the quality and clarity of the text as to the music. There are many times when the vocal line in unaccompanied or supported by very few instruments, and even with more bravura writing there is little difficulty following the shifts in characterisation.

Pierre Audi’s production puts all the protagonists on stage in the first act, even those who do not sing, so that we are aware of a close, claustrophobic city, where the crowd mix and mingle uncomfortably with royalty. All this is set within Tom Pye’s cages of rough stone, the sort used for sea defences or hold back dams. It is a highly effective metaphor for the chaos to come, and the broken cage in the final act a telling image for the final destructive moments.

The vocal lines are frequently lyrical with melodic snatches in keeping with the emotional states of the characters. This is often used to dramatic effect as Peter Hoare’s creepy Creon has the most mellifluous lines to sing, while Roland Wood’s Oedipus is rarely given any moments of relaxation. Susan Bickley does not have a lot to sing as Jocasta but her presence is deeply felt as is Julia Sporsen as Antigone, whose presence grows more important as the work progresses and whose music becomes ever more engaging.

Matthew Best’s Tiresias seems to hold the tragedy together, his prophetic impact constantly challenging the wilful actions of the doomed royal family, and adding the only real bass line to the ensemble.

Edward Gardner provides firm direction from the pit, allowing the many textural nuances of the score to evolve with seeming ease and in perfect balance with the singers.

This is a work which will hopefully be revived as it will surely become even more impressive on greater exposure.

Wigmore Hall, 16 April 2014

Holy Week can often bring unusual musical offerings and that was true of last night at Wigmore Hall when we heard settings for Tenebrae, by Charpentier and Couperin, from members of Les Talens Lyriques. During the early 18^th century the Paris theatres closed for Lent and singers were at something of a loose end, so a convent rather enterprisingly established a compromise between a service and a concert. Celebrated composers set the liturgical passages for singers from the opera, with considerable freedom. Music was given within the convent under liturgical circumstnaces but with all the panache of the opera house.

Most interesting, because so unexpected, is the elaboration of single letters. The verses from Jeremiah all start with a single Hebrew letter, and this is developed into a mini-aria or duet by the composer, often more elaborate than the setting of the ensuing narrative.

The result, while rather inflexible in structure, allowed for many delicious moments as the evening progressed. In Charpentier’s Seconde lecon du jeudi the scoring of prophetae tui viderunt provides a small explosion in an otherwise introspective setting, and the concluding Jerusalem convertere is very beautiful.

This was set for two sopranos who tempered their voices to the calmness of the setting. When Amel Brahim-Djelloul sang Septieme repons H117 we heard the sudden flowering of a far more operatic sound. Similarly, Judith van Wanroji brought a Mozartian warmth to Cinquiene repons H115.

After the interval, Couperin’s longer settings proved also to be rather more florid in approach.

All of the Charpentier had been accompanied from the chamber organ by Christophe Rousset, but for the Couperin setting he alternated sections from both harpsichord and organ. Francois Joubert-Caillet was the sensitive viola da gamba continuo.

A rather brief evening, but one which was warmly received and opened a window into a world we rarely encounter.

Barbican Hall, 12 April 2014

Before the start of The Apostles, Helen Petchey, Honorary Secretary of the Elgar Society, presented the Elgar Society Medal to Sir Andrew Davis. This was warmly applauded and recognised his outstanding support of the composer over many years, including his championing of the restored Third Symphony fifteen years ago. In replying to the presentation he hoped that He would continue to be an Apostle for the composer for many years to come.

The Apostles, even more than The Kingdom, has suffered simply because the writing is not Gerontius, and it was a pity in many ways that this performance was following on so closely after last week’s outstanding presentation of Gerontius essentially by the same forces. There was, however, a great deal to enjoy and value here.

Too often The Apostles can take time to catch fire, but there was no problem here with the Prologue breathing the essence of Elgar from the start. The constant shifts of mood in the orchestration were very finely caught, and there was never any sense of triumphalism even in more extrovert passages. A great deal hangs on the humanity of the characters involved, and here Sarah Connolly’s Mary Magdalene and Brindley Sherratt’s Judas were convincing in their psychological shading as much as their more overt emotions. Gerald Finlay and Paul Groves presented less complex characters, but the sense of ordinary men struggling with vast events was always present.

By contrast Nicole Cabell’s angel and Mary seemed to be in a different world, floating above the men and at times removed from them. Jacques Imbrailo brings us a Jesus at once human and yet removed emotionally from the turmoil around him. Elgar does not attempt to investigate Jesus’ mental state or passion, only to see it through the eyes of the Apostles.

The BBC Symphony Chorus has a less demanding task in The Apostles than in Gerontius, often singing in individual sections, but they characterised the different crowds with ease. Orchestral detail was finely controlled and the organ was evident at key points.

Another fine evening. A pity we did not get The Kingdom as well!